Sometimes with my depressive episodes I get to the stage when I can’t think anymore. I just need to “do”, follow orders, do what I’m told and follow a plan. Anyone who knows me well will be laughing at these sentiments but it’s true. Ideally I would like someone to tell me what to do and to organise my daily routine and for no other reason than this takes time and more importantly effort. I don’t have the energy to plan but that is exactly what I need to do to get myself back on track. I need to be doing things.
So, what will Saturday bring?
Will and I have a long-standing hair-cut appointment which I am loathe to cancel for a number of reasons. I would prefer not to go, but when I list the pros and cons it looks like the benefits of having my hair cut outweigh the disadvantages and therefore on this scientific basis, I will keep my appointment. Normally, I would just up and go, but this protracted deliberation is symptomatic of my thought processes at the moment so that I am looking for any excuse not to go out of the house; to drive into town and park the car and talk to my hairdresser, however inane the topic of conversation. But, I know that I must make the effort and not succumb to the temptation to retreat into my shell and curl up under the duvet.
This is very easy to do. About 10 years ago I spent 6 weeks off work living in my bedroom. I brought the kettle and toaster upstairs and I lived off tea and toast. I slept on and off during the day which meant that I was able to do my shopping during the night (2-3am) at the 24-hour Tesco within walking distance of my house. I didn’t have to talk to anyone, and there was certainly no danger of seeing anyone that I knew-God forbid!
I knew the TV schedules off by heart and I can still remember some of the programmes broadcast during that sad period. I am determined not to go there again, hence the “to do” list. All my instincts are telling me to stay in, lie in bed and sleep. All my sensible, brave genes are telling me otherwise. I have to work at this and make an effort. I have to get out; talk to people and engage. It is the last thing I want to do. It makes me feel physically sick and I get tearful when confronted with this stark reality but there is no hiding from depression. You have to face it full on with determination and confidence that you will not be beaten.